Mentalist Episode Tag: Pretty Red Balloon, 4x3
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Of winding roads and Reuben sandwiches-a friendship fic. Spoilers, 4x3. No copyright infringement intended.


A/N: The writers keep cranking out great episodes! Lots of funny bits and lovely acting. Did anyone else notice the irony of Nate Glass's name? He was like a looking glass reflecting Jane's past. I love symbolism, but then that must be the English teacher in me. And might I say, I perversely love Jane in fake psychic costume *sigh*. Ironic that he was even more beautiful when he was wicked.

I hope you like my strange little tag…

**Episode Tag: Pretty Red Balloon, 4x3**

Jane had been reclined in the driver's side chair all of fifteen minutes before he suddenly spoke. Lisbon had been lost in her own thoughts as she drove, mentally tying up the loose ends of the Flint case, happy that the boy had been found, the kidnapper caught, and that she'd had the chance to get further insight into Jane's past.

"Reuben sandwich!" he exclaimed loudly from flat on his back beside her. She jumped a little, startled at his sudden announcement.

"Geeze, Jane, I'm driving here, and these winding roads require all my concentration."

He yawned, stretching his arms above him. "And I have every faith in your driving skills, Lisbon. Especially on the even windier road leading to Point Reyes."

"Point Reyes? That's an hour out of our way. What do you want to go there for?"

"A sandwich of course. Didn't I just say that? "I've been craving one all day, and now I know why."

"We'll stop at a subway shop or something. I'm tired. I just want to get home, don't you?"

"Aw, but Lisbon. You haven't lived until you've had a Reuben on rye from the Palace Market in Point Reyes. Come on, we're so close, and I haven't been there in ages."

"That puts us home after nightfall," she reasoned, trying with difficulty not to sound whiney.

"What, afraid you'll turn into a pumpkin or something? Come on, woman, live a little. You won't be sorry, I promise."

Confident that he'd win her over in the end, he adjusted his seat to the upright position, looking at her and grinning persuasively, his hunger for adventure nearly as great as his hunger for the sandwich. She shook her head at herself for caving in to his suggestions every time.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

_An hour later…_

"I've never come this far for a sandwich before," Lisbon said, as they sat at the picnic table on the banks of Tomales Bay, the sun hanging low in the sky.

Jane took a bite of his Reuben, sounds of ecstasy emitting from his throat.

"It's totally worth it though, isn't it?" he proclaimed, his mouth full of thinly sliced pastrami and sauerkraut.

She didn't want to admit to him just how right he was as she chewed each savory bite, then sipped her cold root beer from an old-fashioned bottle. She shrugged nonchalantly, but she knew he saw right through her. He grinned knowingly. This was how he'd kept his marks on the hook, she realized. He'd looked at them as if he could see into their very soul, then flash that mesmerizing smile of his to seal the deal.

"I'm glad you're using your powers for good now, Jane," said Lisbon, surprising him with the sudden change of topic.

"I never had powers, Lisbon," he said evasively, his eyes focusing on without really seeing the calm, briny bay before them.

"You know what I mean. I watched video footage of your performances when you first joined my team. You're not that man anymore. Knowing you now, I can't even believe that was ever you at all."

"Oh, that was me, all right, Lisbon. I was all about the image, the con, the cash. You would have hated me."

She nodded. "Yes, I would have."

An image of the video she'd seen flashed in her mind. It was his last fateful appearance on a local talk show, when he'd shown off his talents by communicating with a woman's dead loved one. He'd been the definition of slick: expensive suit and tie, his beautiful face nearly flawless, unetched by the ravages of grief and time. But despite his former appearance of perfection, she liked him better now, a little shaggy, a little ragged around the edges. For all his suffering, he was infinitely more real. It was a tragedy he'd had to lose his family to get to this place.

"_I _hated me too," he said, so softly she'd barely heard him. He looked back at her. "Oh, not enough to change my ways, of course. I was like an addict—hooked on the feeling of putting one over on someone while getting them to pay me for the pleasure." He laughed humorlessly. "And of course there was the showmanship; I fed off of it like manna."

"Your performance today was almost…scary," she said. "I can see why you were so successful."

He blanched a little, not taking her words as a compliment at all. "Scary that it was like riding a bicycle for me, you mean," he added. He finished his last bite of Reuben and wiped his hands on a napkin, then crumpled it together with the white butcher paper the sandwich had been wrapped in. "Seeing Nate Glass and Beth Flint was a necessary reminder. Fate is certainly good about kicking me in the ass when I need it."

They sat in silence a few moments, Lisbon sorry that she'd brought up the subject of his old psychic days again. He'd seemed so happy when they'd bought their sandwiches, and she'd gone and ruined it. He was back to melancholy for the first time in days, and she wanted more than anything at that moment to bring that sparkle back into his eyes.

"The sunset's pretty," she attempted lamely.

"Yes," he agreed, his enthusiasm gone. "We should head back; I know you're not going to like driving these roads in the dark. I'm sorry Lisbon. I was being selfish." He moved to get up.

"No, wait," she said, grabbing his wrist. "Let's stay and watch the rest of the show." She nodded toward the colorful sky. Jane looked at her, and, low and behold, the pleasure seeped back to replace his pained expression. He resumed his seat. She was very much a city girl, but she knew how much nature seemed to soothe him. As did food.

"You want the rest of my sandwich?" she asked tentatively, indicating her half-eaten Reuben.

His eyes lit up, reflecting the light from the sinking sun. "Seriously? You can't eat it?"

She grinned. "I'm full; have at it. That was a big sandwich." She glanced shyly at him. "It really was worth the trip, Jane. Thanks for suggesting it."

He dug into her leftovers with obvious relish. "Now you're just trying to cheer me up,"he said perceptively.

"Maybe," she grinned. "Is it working?"

"Maybe," he echoed, his mouth full once more. "You know what would really cheer me up though? Let _me_ tackle those curves. Nothing is more fun than the rush of handling dangerous roads in the moonlight."

She looked at him in horror. He drove fast enough as it was. Allowing him to take the wheel would be literally putting her life in his hands.

He chuckled suddenly. "I'm just kidding. I wouldn't put you through that. You'd be sitting there all tense and terrified the whole trip, your fingers digging into the arm rests. The look on your face has completely restored my good mood, though. Thanks, Lisbon."

"Oh," she said sarcastically. "Happy to help."

He finished her sandwich, now thoroughly enjoying the natural beauty around them. A part of Lisbon wondered if she were wrong; maybe he hadn't really changed that much in some ways. He was still a master manipulator, still enjoyed being the smartest person in the room. But she'd been proud of him for leveling with Beth Flint, for apologizing for how he'd conned her. No one could change completely, she realized, but for the most part, he _was_ using his powers for good now.

"I like you just the way you are, Jane," she said, startling him again with her rapid mood swings. He regarded her seriously, obviously touched by her soft words.

"Thank you, Lisbon. I like you too." But of course he couldn't leave it there. "Even if you are a control freak with the driving thing."

"At least I know we'll make it home alive."

"Come on, Lisbon, I'm not that bad," he said, gathering their picnic refuse and tossing it into a nearby trash can. "Once again you are underestimating my skills. Have you learned nothing over the years?"

She snorted, because she knew him all too well. "How many speeding tickets have you gotten, Patrick Jane?"

"The question you _should _be asking, dear Lisbon, is how many speeding tickets did I _avoid _getting?"

She rolled her eyes and got behind the wheel, while he slid into his usual place beside her.

Their good-natured bantering continued into the night, following as many twists and unexpected turns as the road leading back to Sacramento.

A/N: If you are ever at Point Reyes, pick yourself up a Reuben. They're to die for, and really are worth the trip! When I saw this took place in Marin County, I couldn't resist revisiting that wonderful area, at least in my mind.

Hoped you liked this enough to drop me a review! See you here again next time.


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